


Probably Not a Bad Idea

by onecent



Series: Winterhawk Week 2016 [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Winterhawk Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:06:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onecent/pseuds/onecent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Clint's on a mission and Kate is out of town, Bucky gets called in for back-up dog sitting duty. What he didn't expect was for the entire apartment complex to get involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Probably Not a Bad Idea

_Hey Bucky! Thanks again for taking care of Lucky for me. His food is in the bottom cabinet left of the sink, and his leash is hanging by the door. Take him out twice a day, morning and evening, ten minutes after he eats. Don’t worry if he gets out. He knows his way back. If you need anything just call. -Clint_

The note was written in colored pencil and had a coffee ring from the mug placed on its corner. Bucky read it with a deep sigh and looked down at the dog sitting quietly at his feet. “Remind me why I agreed to do this.”

The dog, thankfully, didn’t respond other than to tilt its head and walk away. Bucky set the note back on the counter and followed the dog into the living room. He sat down on the old, saggy couch and stared at the blank television.

A knock at the door disturbed him from his thoughts. A quick glance at his watch revealed he’d been just sitting for a lot longer than he’d thought. Damn. He thought he’d gotten out of that habit.

He rose and went to the door, opening it so his left arm was hidden behind the door. The older woman standing there looked up at him and squinted.

“You’re not Kate,” she said.

“Uh, no,” he said. He remembered that Kate was the other Hawkeye, and the usual dogsitter when she wasn’t off on a mission in a parallel dimension. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah.” The woman tried to peer past his shoulder. “Is your young man around, then?”

Bucky frowned. That was an odd way to phrase things. “Barton? He’s out. Should I let him know you came by?”

“Well, actually, I’m having a problem with my plumbing and was wondering if he could come by to look at it for me. Since he is the building manager these days.”

Barton was...in charge of the building? How long had that been going on? “He actually won’t be back for a few days. How soon do you need it dealt with?”

“Well my sink isn’t draining, so sooner is better than later. I’m afraid I can’t wait a few days.”

Bucky sighed. “What apartment are you in? I’ll see what I can do.”

“Number 411. I do appreciate your help.”

“Of course.” What were Avengers for, if not to help people when they needed it? And Bucky could help with a blocked pipe, even if it wasn’t his specialty. Helping people in the small things, he decided, was still a form of heroics.

—————

“...so then I told Donnie that he needed to make up his mind, whether he was going to stay with her or move on, and whatever decision he made he had to stick to it. He put up a real fight about it, but they’re still together, so I think it did some good. He’s probably about as stubborn as that young man of yours.”

Bucky finished tightening the bolt on the pipe he’d removed, cleaned, and replaced. He reached out to put the wrench back into the tool box and scoot out on his back from under the sink.

“Are you finished already? That was so quick! I’m used to Clint, and you know he’s a dear soul, but he just doesn’t always know what he’s doing, does he? He spends half his time under there swearing because he can’t figure out how to do something or he’s forgotten a light and then when he finally gets it done an hour later you have to double-check to make sure he hasn’t messed it up even worse. I suppose we’d better check still to be sure, but you look like a competent young man, I’m sure it’s wonderful.”

Bucky stood and wiped his hands on his pants. He turned on the water for the sink and watched it drain for a few minutes before nodding and turning the water back off. “Glad I could help, ma’am.” He reached down and grabbed the tool box.

“It’s Mrs. Thompson, dear. If you’re going to be sticking around you might as well get to know everyone. We’re a pretty close community here. We don’t really take to strangers.” The woman eyed Bucky expectantly, but he pretended to ignore the implied question and just nodded. She eventually sighed and asked, “So what should we be calling you, then?”

“Bucky.” He looked past Mrs. Thompson’s shoulder. “I should go back to check on the dog.”

“Oh, right, right, yes, you go do that. I’ll see you later. You’re coming to the barbecue, right? You’ll need to come see everyone and say hello. Shall I let everyone know you’re bringing drinks?”

Bucky blinked. The woman was so earnest, and so determined. He’d seen that face before on Steve’s mom, and his own before she died. His shoulders slumped. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy. Now you go on and get out of here. And let Clint know that we look forward to when he gets back.”

Bucky stood in the hallway, not exactly remembering how he had gotten there, and turned back to look at the closed door to apartment 411. As he turned away and climbed the stairs back up to Clint’s apartment, he determined that he was grateful Mrs. Thompson had never decided to be a supervillain, since it was clear she had powers that even he could not fathom.

—————

Bucky didn’t know what time the barbecue began. He did not know what sort of drinks he might be expected to bring. He didn’t know what to do with the dog while he would be gone. So he fed the dog, took it on a walk, and sat in the apartment listening to see when other people might be going upstairs. When he started hearing people on the stairs, he went into the kitchen to check Clint’s fridge. It was nearly empty, aside from a six-pack of beer and some single-wrap cheese slices. Bucky grabbed the beer, leashed the dog, and went up to the roof.

He slipped outside behind someone carrying a boombox, hoping that it would help people to not notice him as much. Once he was outside, he immediately began scanning for potential threats, escape routes, and civilians to protect. It took him a minute to relax and remember that no one was after him, he wasn’t on a mission, and all the people up here were friends of Clint, which meant they weren’t supervillains. Probably.

“Oh, you made it!” Mrs. Thompson appeared at his elbow, stealthy in her ability to be completely overlooked, and patted Bucky’s arm. “Let me introduce you to people.”

The names and faces passed by in a blur. “That's Deke, he drives an ice cream truck.” “That's Ed. He's a writer, does comics about criminals.” “Aimee, this is Clint's new man, Bucky.” “Matt’s a writer, too, writes about people robbing banks to save a library.” “Oh, there's Tito, taking care of the drinks. Come say hi to Bucky!”

Bucky catalogued everyone by name, face, and perceived threat level unconsciously. At one point Aimee offered to take the dog, but Bucky just frowned down at Lucky and said he'd rather not. Everyone was probably safe to be around, but nothing was happening to Clint's dog on his watch.

The one thing that kept sticking out was everyone's immediate acceptance of him in the space. Bucky was wearing long sleeves and a special glove over his left hand, but he still expected a little more wariness from New Yorkers.

Things finally clicked when Deke came up and clapped Bucky on the (thankfully non-metal) shoulder and said, “You make sure to take care of Clint now. He's had a bad run of dates, and I think we'd all appreciate it if he didn't have to get mopey over another break-up just now.”

The man moved off before Bucky could respond, which was likely for the best since Bucky’s only reaction was to gape like a fish for a moment before drawing Lucky in and retreating back to the stairs. He moved as quickly as he could without drawing a lot of attention and did not stop until he was safely closed up in Clint’s apartment. He bent to unclip Lucky’s collar and pat his head.

“They think...we’re dating?” he said to the dog. “Why would they think that?”

The question plagued Bucky as he got ready for bed. He decided to spend the night in the apartment, since he didn’t really have a permanent headquarters of his own for the time being and he didn’t really want to crash at Avengers headquarters and have to come all the way back just to look after the dog.

He brushed his teeth, changed into sweatpants and a soft t-shirt, and made a bed for himself on the couch. “It would be weird to sleep in his bed,” he said. “Since we’re not dating. Not that we would date. Or that I would sleep in his bed.” He frowned. “Why am I still talking?”

With a heavy sigh, he settled down to try and sleep.

—————

In the morning, Bucky made himself coffee and dug around in Clint’s fridge until he found some eggs and bacon. He promised himself he’d replace the items before leaving, but for now he needed breakfast. He cooked and made toast while the coffee percolated. Once the coffee was done, he dug out a chipped mug from the cabinet and poured himself a cup, then almost immediately spat it out.

“This is disgusting!” He poured out all the coffee and pulled out the filter to check the machine. “Oh my god, Barton, don’t you ever clean things?” He ran his finger through the built-up crud on the inside of the machine and sighed. Maybe he would just clean the kitchen, and that would pay Barton back for the food.

Halfway through scrubbing the floors, Clint’s phone, a landline, started to ring. Bucky glared at it for a minute before peeling off his gloves and standing to answer it.

“Hey there, it’s Clint!” The voice on the other end sounded far too chipper for someone supposedly on an intensive mission to Turkmenistan. The heat alone would’ve made Bucky grumpy, let alone sitting out for hours on end. “I just wanted to call and check in, see how things were going. How’s Lucky?”

Bucky looked down at the dog, who was lying on a blanket in a corner of the living room. “He’s fine,” he said.

“No problems? He hasn’t tried to run off on you or anything?”

“No. He’s been good.”

“That’s great! And how are you doing? Everyone treating you well?”

Well. If there was an opportunity to discuss Deke’s comment last night… “Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“They...what?”

“Mrs. Thompson called me your man.” Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter. “Deke said I shouldn’t break up with you.”

“Oh. Oh man, oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t...shit. Sorry that’s, that’s my fault.”

“You told them we were dating?”

“No, I, well. I didn’t say I was dating you specifically, just that I was dating. Someone. A general someone.” Clint’s sigh rattled over the phone line. “Mrs. Thompson kept trying to set me up with people, so finally I told her I was already dating someone so she’d leave me alone. I said that I’d introduce ‘em sometime and...yeah. I guess they all jumped to conclusions.”

“Why would they assume that you are dating me, though?” Bucky caught himself glaring down at the dog and tapping his metal fingers hard on the countertop, creating small dents in the cheap wood. He forced himself to tuck his arms around his chest and look up at the ceiling instead.

“Well you’re pretty squarely within my type. It’s not that far of a jump, really.”

“I’m…your type?”

“Sure. Hot, could probably bench press me, way out of my league.” There was a pause on the line. “Wait, are we talking about you being a guy? I mean, I’m cool with it, but I get if you’re not, not everyone is the same way. And it’s not like we’re actually dating. In fact, you can just tell them all. Tell ‘em whatever you need to and I’ll deal with it when I get back.”

Were those words supposed to make sense? Bucky was fairly certain they didn’t make sense. “Thanks?” he hazarded.

“Yeah, I’m just sorry you had to deal with this at all. Just put all the blame on me. I’ll take care of it later.”

“All right.” Bucky’s arms relaxed from where they’d been pressing against his ribs. “Was there anything else?”

“No, I guess that’s it. I should get back to work. If you need anything else just call. I gotta go. Bye!”

Bucky stared at the silent handset. “I don’t have the number,” he murmured.

—————

“I’m coming in!”

Bucky startled at the sound of someone shouting into the apartment, nearly hitting his head on the showerhead. He left his cleaning supplies resting on the floor of the bathroom and stepped out.

“My god, it’s…it looks great in here!” Kate Bishop stood in the middle of the living room, spinning and staring. “It smells good, too. What have you been doing in here?” She turned to Bucky, raising her sunglasses and perching them on the top of her head.

He shrugged. “I’ve been eating his food. I thought I could do something nice in return.”

“This isn’t nice, this is miraculous. I was pretty sure the stale pizza smell was permanently ingrained into the walls. Which…” She stepped closer to the wall and squinted at it. “Did you replaster the holes?”

Bucky flushed and looked away. “It’s been a boring few days.”

“Well, I’m here to relieve you of your duties. And I intend to do dog sitting the proper way, eating lots of junk food and watching bad TV while not paying any attention to the apartment whatsoever.” She pointed a finger at Bucky. “You, sir, are an overachiever. Probably from all that time with Captain Goody-Goody.”

“Steve is hardly a goody-goody,” Bucky argued. “And like I said. I was bored.” He most certainly hadn’t run into a small box tucked into the back corner of a kitchen cabinet, full of old pictures and letters that let him know more about Clint and the people he’d lost than he’d ever wanted to. And he also hadn’t felt so guilty about running across the memory box that he had decided to clean the whole house. Nor had he kept completely accidentally running into more personal possessions that left Bucky feeling like he understood Clint better than probably most people in the building.

No. He’d just been bored.

“So absolutely nothing exciting happened while we were gone?”

“I had to fix Mrs. Thompson’s pipes. And Aimee’s shower, and rescue a cat out of a tree for Beatrice. Ed asked me to stand as a model for him while he was drawing one of his comics, but I said no. And everyone thought I was dating Clint.”

“Oh yeah, he mentioned that part.” Kate set down her bag on the kitchen counter and flopped down onto the couch. Her hand drifted down to scratch Lucky behind his ears. “And did you kill anyone for suggesting it?”

Bucky shrugged. “I didn’t see how it was hurting anyone.”

She straightened and stared at him. “So you…you didn’t tell anyone? They still think you two are together?”

“You’re free to enlighten them otherwise. I didn’t want to see Mrs. Thompson’s disappointed face.”

“Yeah, that woman is a little terrifying,” Kate agreed. “So uh, that’s the only reason you didn’t speak up?”

“Yes,” Bucky said, perhaps a little too quickly judging by the way Kate’s eyebrows raised at the sharp syllable. “It just wasn’t worth it.”

Kate smiled. “Yeah? You didn’t have any ulterior motives? Maybe wanting to actually get a piece of that action?”

Bucky glared at her, turning on the Winter Soldier glare to its highest level. As effective as it may have been when they first met and even when he’d worked with the Young Avengers before, it seemed Kate had grown immune in the years since then. She kept her shit-eating grin firmly in place, even as Bucky turned away and muttered, “I don’t know why I ever agreed to work with Hawkeye in any capacity. Either of you. You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Maybe you wish Clint would be a—“

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Bucky groaned, putting a hand to his head. “Look. Even if I was interested, which I am not saying I am, there are so many reasons why it would be a bad idea. Nightmares, PTSD, my ability to throw most people through walls without really thinking, the abundance of sharp weapons we’d be guaranteed to have on hand at all times. Just, let’s all agree not to go there.”

Kate shrugged. “All right. Though I think it might be good for him. And you, actually. Some shared experiences, some of the same problems. You could help each other work through it. Maybe you could get him to start laughing again.”

Bucky remembered the pictures he’d found, of Clint standing with a group of friends and grinning from ear to ear. He also remembered Clint when they’d first met, a loudmouth who slung around one-liners like they were nothing. Compared to the Clint of now…Bucky was a little ashamed he hadn’t noticed the difference. “He’s not doing so well?”

“I think he could use someone to remind him that life isn’t just fighting bad guys and drinking beer. And I’m not really the person to do that. He’s not great at listening to me.”

“And you think he’d listen to me better?”

“Maybe.” Kate flopped back onto the couch. “Like I said, I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea. But it’s up to you, really.”

Bucky grabbed his duffel off the floor next to the couch. He’d never really bothered to unpack it, so leaving was easy. He gave Lucky one last pat before heading out.

—————

“I hear you took care of Clint’s dog while he was gone. Down!” Natasha swung up as Bucky ducked down and fired over his head at a pair of incoming AIM lackeys while he checked her back. She dropped back down and crouched next to him. “How’d that go?”

“Fine.” He rose up to check behind them again and fired at a yellow helmet peeking around the corner of the corridor. “His entire apartment complex thinks we’re dating.”

Natasha took a moment to slot a new clip into her gun. “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say about it? ‘Huh’?” Bucky slipped another knife out of his boot and threw it down the hall at another suit.

She smiled at him. “What did you expect me to say? Let’s move, we need to get down to the center.”

Bucky walked backwards behind her as she went to the end of the hall and poked her head around the corner. She motioned the all clear and they slid around into the next corridor. “‘That’s weird’? ‘Seriously, you and Clint?’ Uncontrolled laughter?”

“Why would I do that?” They made it easily down that hall and stood on either side of a large metal door.

“Because the idea is ridiculous? We’re both so completely messed up, it would be a disaster from the moment it started.”

Natasha shrugged. The door slid open and Bucky threw out his left arm to catch the emerging AIM scientist in the jaw. Natasha moved in as the man fell and began firing her widow bites into the room. Bucky followed after her and checked the corners for anyone hiding. Not that they were doing a great job of hiding, considering their bright yellow suits. They quickly cleared the room and moved to the central station, where Natasha began typing at the computer while Bucky watched for anyone coming in.

“Clint is a good guy. He is definitely a disaster, but you could definitely do worse. Just be open with him, talk about what you expect from him, and make sure he does the same with you.” Natasha pulled out a drive from the core and turned. She placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’ll never know what will happen unless you give it a try. I think you should go for it.”

Bucky fell silent for a moment. “Let’s get this back out to the rest of the team,” he said, already striding toward the door. He ignored Natasha’s small sigh behind him. They headed up to the jet and the rest of the team. As they rounded the final corner and came in sight of the exit, Bucky fell back to stand next to Natasha and murmured out of the side of his mouth, “When does Clint get back again?”

Natasha gave him a smile.

—————

Bucky stood outside Clint’s apartment for a full minute before reaching up to knock on the door. Then he stood for another minute before knocking louder. On the other side of the door, Lucky began barking. Bucky heard Clint talking and stepped back as the door opened.

“Oh, hey Bucky.” Clint was wearing grey sweatpants that looked to be three seconds away from falling down and a white t-shirt with a purple target painted on it, which just seemed like bad planning. He was also almost completely covered in bandages, with his arm wrapped up and a large pad on his head. “Do you, uh. Do you need something? Is there a problem?”

“I wanted to talk. Can I come in?”

Clint squinted at Bucky’s face for a minute before gesturing into the room. “Hold up a minute. If we’re gonna talk I’m gonna grab my hearing aids.”

Bucky wandered over to the kitchen to wait while Clint ran to the bedroom. He turned back when he heard light footsteps. His gaze dropped to see that Clint was barefoot. He slipped a pair of purple hearing aids on and smiled up at Bucky.

“All right, I’m good now. What did you need to talk about? Was it something with the apartment? Oh, and thanks for all the work you did with that. It was really great. I don’t think the place has ever been this clean, certainly not since before I moved in. And thanks for all the work you did for everyone else, though I sort of think half of the projects you did were because everyone wanted to get to know you better.”

Bucky smiled. He leaned back against the counter. “Mrs. Thompson saw me as I was coming up. She said hello. Told me to take good care of you today.”

“Oh. Oh! I thought you would’ve...I’ll take care of that. Sorry you had to worry about that, again. I’ll let everyone know you were just being polite.”

“Actually, that’s sort of what I came here to talk to you about.” Bucky shifted again so he was standing in front of Clint, hands hanging at his sides. “I talked to Kate. And Natasha. And they both said that if I was interested, I should go for it.”

“Go for what?” Clint asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Asking you out. For real. And if the smartest girl I know says it’s a good idea and the woman who knows you best thinks it’s a good idea, maybe it can’t be completely terrible.”

Clint stared at Bucky for another minute. Then he rubbed at his ear. “I’m...I’m actually hearing this?” He leaned past Bucky to check something on the counter. “Maybe I’m still dreaming. Maybe I didn’t get enough coffee.”

Bucky slumped a little. “It’s fine if you don’t--”

“No! No, I just...I never thought you’d actually be interested. At all. This is...seriously, this is one of the best moments of my life.” The smile from earlier came back full force, reminding Bucky of some of those pictures he’d seen of Clint back when he was younger. It lit up his face and made him simply beautiful.

“Well. I think we can at least try it.” Bucky’s returning smile was warm.

Clint chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “All right then. So. How about we start with some coffee?” He stepped past Bucky and reached for the coffee pot.

“No!” Bucky shouted, reaching out to stop Clint’s hand. “Uh. How about we go out for coffee?” He looked down at Clint’s sweats and holey t-shirt. “Or maybe order a pizza?”

Clint grinned. “Barnes, that is exactly my kind of date.” He switched paths and went for the phone on the wall. “But seriously, is there something wrong with coffee? Because that’s going to be a problem.”

“I’m fine with coffee, but I’m going to wait until after you buy a new machine before I have some from this apartment.”

**Author's Note:**

> The next Winterhawk Week fic in this series will be published by [ottobarnes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ottobarnes/profile).
> 
> (Bonus points if you caught the cameos.)
> 
> My tumblr is [@girlouttaplace](http://girlouttaplace.tumblr.com).


End file.
